


Why Isn't He Here?

by Agent_Doxie



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angsty Merlin, Fluff, Gen, Merlin and Arthur are brothers, Modern AU, Only Merlin/Arthur if you squint, not so oblivious arthur, you won't have to squint too hard though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 14:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3572651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent_Doxie/pseuds/Agent_Doxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A modern AU in which Merlin and Arthur are brothers. It's Merlin's birthday and Arthur has forgotten. Or has he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Isn't He Here?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a thing I wrote for class (I got E8 for it too) and I decided I would post it here. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

Stepping outside into the pouring, early-morning rain, Merlin Emrys smiled to himself, wrapping his skinny arms loosely around his body. Looking up, he saw the still dark sky, the clouds still shrouding the sun. The rain had just never bothered him all that much. It wasn't that he enjoyed it, the cold and the wet just didn't really have that much of an effect on him. If anything, the rain only raised his spirits, not dampen them like it seemed to do everyone else. His father had always said that he was crazy (Uther hated these downpours with a passion), but Merlin would always just glance over at Arthur, his brother, who would simply shrug and ruffle his hair and suddenly everything would be right again.

Ever since Merlin was a child, he had always loved to play underneath the rain. It always used to bring him such joy; it used to be one of his favourite things to do. Merlin would always lose his patience while waiting for his mother to bundle him up in his coat, padding around in front of the door as if he would burst if he stood still for one second, and when Hunith would look away for a second, he would frantically fumble with the doorknob, every part of him convincing him to run out now and deal with the consequences later.

“You’ll catch your death!” Hunith would call after his retreating form, but never to any avail.

Merlin wouldn't listen. Instead, he would just continue to jump through the puddles down the stone steps, then once onto flat ground, he would leap around on the grass, loving the squelch it made, as he so eloquently put it. He loved the way the rain made his raven black hair stick itself to the sides of his face, loved the way it would fall in his eyes, blind him, and then suddenly he would get a face full of dirt. It was fun falling down! His favourite time though, was when his brother would join him. Arthur was sensible. He always put on his gumboots and rain jacket first, then bring out Merlin’s, always the protective older brother. Merlin would happily plop himself down into the mud to put on his gumboots, they matched Arthur’s, but by the time Arthur would get Merlin into the rain-jacket, they would both be soaked through and through. Arthur would have to chase Merlin all across the garden, round and round in circles, before the blonde would eventually be able to tackle Merlin to the ground and force the now drenched coat on him. They would always have fun, though, and once the coat was on, they always played all the silliest games they could imagine. They had very big imaginations. Hunith would just smile in defeat, knowing she wouldn't get them in anytime soon. Turning around, she would call for Uther, telling him to take a break from his work and come and watch his two sons.

However, that all was so long ago, now. Next year, Arthur would be going off to college, and Merlin would be starting his senior year. How he wished that things could be more like they used to be, all laughs and smiles, not a care in the world. How he missed the winters when he and Arthur would play together in the rain or in the snow, the jumping and splashing, the play-fighting in the mud. Or the summers when Merlin and Arthur would run through the sprinklers in their togs, shrieking as the freezing water would collide with their warm skin, or when Arthur used to sneak up behind Merlin, and catching the younger boy off balance, toss him into their pool, following the raven-haired boy’s splash by the blonde then jumping in behind him. They used to have so much fun together, just the two of them. Merlin sighed to himself as he set off, striding out past the little wooden fence and heading down the road. The concrete shined black in the rain, with an almost ethereal glow coming off it. With no cars hurtling down the street in the still dark morning, or cyclists trying to steer straight even with rain right in their eyes, there was an eerie sense of peace that had settled over the gloom.   
He had always enjoyed these brisk walks in the rain. It used to be that Arthur would sometimes come with him, their constant bickering and light-hearted chatter always cut through the silence, but nowadays, the but Arthur wasn't home much anymore, and Merlin almost missed him. Arthur was always out with his friends, or off being the captain of the soccer team, football team or the basketball team. Kicking a stone on the footpath as he walked, he wondered to himself if Arthur had even remembered his birthday today. It wouldn't be the first time he had forgotten, and Merlin couldn't really blame him if he had. 

Nearing the end of his short walk, Merlin turned the corner and arrived back onto his street. By this point, his red shirt was quite wet, sticking to his skin in some places. He still refused to wear his rain-coat, though no-one really knew why. His blue neckerchief was flapping around madly in the breeze. It probably would have flown off if it hadn't been so securely tied around the back of his neck, but he would never let that happen. His favourite little blue piece of fabric had been given to him by Arthur a few years ago. It was getting quite old, but he couldn't really find it in him to throw it away. 

Walking up the now cracked stone steps, Merlin spun around to face the large, green garden behind him. A small smile graced his lips as he remembered the good-old days, before he turned back to face the wooden door, the white paint peeling in some places. He really needed to take some time to re-paint, maybe a nice aqua blue would look good this time round, possibly with a small picture of a dragon up the top. He always had been good at art. His mother had once said that he had a natural talent for it, a gift. He had never had any lessons, yet he was still able to create a masterpiece with simply a pen and a pad of paper. He worked his way through dozens of sketchbooks, filling every single page with beautiful and intricate depictions of just about anything. From the red roses out in the garden, to his mother’s fine china, even sketches of people, they always looked exquisite, though not from lack of trying. 

Merlin paused for a second, steeling himself for what might happen once he got into the house. Letting out a small breath, he turned the door handle. As he stepped over the threshold of the house, he yelled out a quick hello to his mother to let her know that he was home. Hearing no response, he assumed she had just popped down to the shops to get some milk or what have it. Walking through the hall, he quickly ducked into the bathroom and grabbed a towel to dry himself off with. While towel-drying his hair, he peeked into the living room. After not seeing anyone around, he plopped himself down onto the couch and snuggled himself down into the cushions. Arthur wasn't home. Hunith wasn't home, nor was Uther. Just typical. No-one home to share his birthday with him. Sad, but not unexpected. 

Suddenly, Merlin found two hands being flung over his eyes.  
“Guess who?” cried Arthur from behind Merlin. Merlin grinned, then burst out laughing. Arthur was home! “Also, before you say anything, here. I thought you might want to have this.” He removed his hands from Merlin’s face and proceeded to hand Merlin a small, red box, wrapped up in a smooth bow. He remembered! Standing up, he accepted the gift with a shy smile, tearing off the bow and opening the box. What he found inside made his face split out into a huge smile. Another neckerchief. Blue, just like the last one. “I thought you might need a new one. Your current one is looking a bit … how should I say this … tatty?” Arthur explained, also grinning from ear to ear.

“Oy! It is not! But thank you. A lot. It really means a lot to me that you remembered.” Merlin told Arthur, sitting back down on the couch, already fiddling with his current neckerchief, trying to take it off. Arthur followed Merlin’s lead and sat down beside him, angling inwards so he could be facing the other boy. Merlin, having managed to get off his old neckerchief, carefully picked up the new one and put it on. Turning to Arthur, Merlin smiled broadly. Arthur returned the smile, then gave Merlin a small, friendly nudge. Before long, they had a full on, hard out, every-man-for-himself type war, complete with poking, nudging and shoving. It was all friendly though, and the two brothers were still grinning like crazy. Soon enough, they were rolling over the floor in hysterics, all ideas of “war” completely gone. Just like the good-old days.


End file.
